Test Trilogy
by demelzap
Summary: A new recruit is accepted into Section. This story contains original characters that are not meant to represent anyone in real life. The stories were orignally published with my LFN codename CJCCarol. Rated M for adult situations and language.
1. The Test

The Test 

**T**he class ended with the ritual bowing out ceremony. Liz felt that Ben held her hand a little longer than was required, and when she raised her eyes slightly, he seemed to be gazing at her. She made her way down the length of other students, keeping her eyes averted from Michael where he stood next to the door. Ben bowed out the last student, and class ended.

Liz walked to her bag, took out a towel and began to rub her face. Ben walked over, and asked her to wait for him in a low voice, then he followed Michael out of the room. A great sigh of relief seemed to wash over the room. The students stood in groups of two and three, talking about their visitor. Liz sat by the wall, waiting for Ben to return.

Ben stood just outside the doorway, talking to Michael in a low voice. Over Michael's shoulder, he watched Liz as she sat in the classroom. She reached up and tucked a strand of her short reddish brown hair behind her ear. Michael finished what he had to say, and then he walked away. Ben stayed in the hall, still watching Liz. The students seemed almost giddy after the restraint that they had shown while their visitor observed them. Liz laughed at something someone said to her, her brown eyes crinkling at the corners. She stood up then, mimicking a fight with the other student, and Ben was struck again with how young she was.

Later, she walked behind him silently, following his slightly limping gait. She could tell his knee was bothering him by the way he favored it as he walked. He stopped at the doorway, turned and motioned her to go into the room first.

He closed the door behind them, then went to stand by the window. She joined him, and reached over to touch his hand where it rested on the windowsill.

"It went well," he said.

"It did?" she asked, with a note of hopefulness in her voice.

"Yes, couldn't you tell?"

She flexed her shoulders, and rolled her head around.

"I wasn't sure what he wanted."

"He wanted to see if you're ready to move up to Section to complete your training. I guess you are, because he told me the test will be next week."

"He was so hard on me. I wasn't used to it," she said.

"It's not supposed to be easy. I'm hard on you too sometimes."

"But not like that."

He turned from the window and walked to the couch, the limp was quite evident now. She followed him easily, and sank to the floor in front of him, her hands lightly resting on his knee.

"Can I massage it for you?" she said.

He winced as he shifted his leg up on to a stool.

"No, just leave it be for now. I'll take the brace off in a while and go to the whirlpool."

She settled more comfortably on the floor.

"What will happen next?"

"Well," he slouched back on the couch; "He'll test you next week. It will be like a test for your next rank in Karate. If you pass, you'll leave this level, and train with a Section Operative. You might even train with him. There's more to Section than kicking and punching.

"I have to leave you?" A stricken look appeared on her face.

He reached out a hand and stroked her hair.

"You don't want to?"

She dipped her head down, resting her cheek against his good knee.

"No."

"Why not?" he continued to stroke her hair.

She was silent at first, pushing fibers of the carpet around. Finally she looked up at him.

"I like seeing you every day. I," she paused. Her voice sounded strained, as if there was a lump in her throat. "I like you."

A slow smile crept across his face.

"Do you now?"

"Ben, please don't make fun of me."

"I'm not making fun of you."

"It sounded like you were."

"No. I thought you were going to say you wanted to stay with me because I'm easy on you. People don't usually 'like' their martial arts instructor."

"You're not easy on me. I told you that. Maybe I thought Michael was harder because I don't like him."

He held his finger to her lips.

"Don't say you don't like him. You can think that, but don't say it; someone may hear you and tell him. He's going to assume that none of you like him, but if he hears you say it, he'll think you don't respect him. If he thinks you don't respect him, he'll make your life miserable."

"I'm sorry sir," she said.

"You don't call me sir in here, remember? In here, I'm just Ben."

She nodded, then looked down at the floor again.

"So, what do you mean when you say you like me?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"Well I mean, do you like me as a friend or as more than a friend?"

"More," she mumbled.

"Liz," he lifted her chin so she was looking at him. "You have to speak louder. I can't hear what you're saying. It's ok, I don't think you're being disrespectful. We're two people talking now, not instructor and student."

"I like you as more than a friend. I think about you at night and wish we were together." As she said this, a flush crept up her cheeks.

There was a silence for a time then. The only sounds were the bubbles in the fish tank, and farther away the muffled sounds of a Karate class going on. The weight of the words hung in the air, almost visible like smoke.

"Come here," he said, raising her to her feet, and pulling her toward him. She sat next to him on the couch, leaning her head against his chest. He put his arm around her.

"When you go to him, it will be easier for us to be together. I won't be your instructor anymore so we can be friends. I'm not Section material; they made that clear to me years ago. I'll always be here, behind the scenes, training their recruits."

She relaxed at his words, and raised her hand to his chest. The top of his gi was open slightly, and he didn't have a shirt on under it. She traced the twisting pattern of the dragon tattoo on his chest. He had told her once that it was a souvenir of Hong Kong.

"I wish we didn't have to wait, I want to be with you right now," she said at last.

"You are with me right now," he said.

"No, I mean, well you know."

Behind her head he smiled. An invisible shiver went down his spine.

"I don't know," he whispered.

The sounds from the classroom had faded. The room was getting darker as the sun went down. They hadn't turned the lights on.

She sighed, and laid the palm of her hand flat against his chest.

"I want to make love with you," she said at last.

His arms tightened around her, and he brushed the top of her head with his lips.

"I want that too, but not until after the test. Until then, you're still my student."

"I can't wait Ben."

The catch in her voice sent a real shiver down his spine. Knowing it was wrong, he turned her so she faced him and he kissed her. His hand at her waist untied her belt and the front of her gi. He slipped his hand up her body, impatiently pushing the shirt she wore under it aside. The kisses deepened, and she moaned.

"Stop," he said, breathlessly.

"What?"

"We have to stop," he said. "This isn't right."

She stood up, gathering the gi together in front of her, and walked to the desk. To cover her embarrassment, she turned the light on, and sat in the desk chair.

He stood up and limped over to where she sat. He leaned against the desk, and put his hand on her arm.

"Soon enough," he said.

She nodded and looked up at him.

"I have to go to the whirlpool now," he said.

She nodded again.

"Tomorrow, we'll start practicing for your test," he said.

"Ben," she said, putting a hand up on his arm. "I love you."

He stood up, and pulled her up into his arms, and held her tightly.

Liz stood in the hallway along with the other students, mentally preparing for the test. She looked in the doorway, Michael and Ben stood inside the classroom, side by side, a contrast in light and dark.

Michael was wearing a black gi; the top tucked into the bottom, making it look like a jumpsuit. His long auburn hair was tied back at the top of his head. His green eyes looked as hard as emeralds. He was doing some stretches, in preparation for taking the recruits through the test.

Ben was dressed in a white gi. His normally easy-going demeanor was gone today, hiding behind the mask of the grim black belt he was. His hair was short, brown with blonde streaks at the top of his head. His intense blue eyes had turned slate gray. She wasn't sure if it was out of anger, or just concentration.

The students filed into the classroom one by one, and took their positions. Both Ben and Michael stood at the front of the class. Ben stood with his arms crossed, watching their faces. It was his job to help with the test, but the final decision rested with Michael. All the recruits started with a year of martial arts classes. Section felt the intense training and discipline of martial arts would prepare the recruits for the rigorous training they would expect to find during their two years of Section training. Ben's eyes lingered on Liz, but she kept her eyes straight ahead as she had been trained.

"Everyone line up, attention stance," said Ben.

Michael remained motionless, watching them without moving his head.

"Today you will be tested for admission to Section training. It will be similar to the tests you've taken to achieve your next belt ranks. Some of you will not pass. Those of you who do will be joining Michael downstairs in Section."

Michael began to walk in among the students as Ben continued his speech.

"When either I or Michael give a command, you will execute it. If you do not, you will drop and do 20 pushups. You will not look at either Michael or me. If you do, you will do pushups. You will keep your eyes straight ahead."

Michael stopped in front of each student to see if any eyes shifted.

"Everyone in this room will give one hundred percent effort. If you do not, you will be asked to leave, and you will not return to this class. You will begin your training over from the start, is that clear?"

"Yes sir," they all answered together.

"Then let's get started. I will call out a drill, and Michael will be circulating the room. If you are not performing up to his standards, you will drop and do pushups, do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

Ben began calling off the drill, and Michael walked amongst the students. He had one student drop because his legs weren't bent, another because his stance was wrong. He reduced one girl to tears because she wasn't shouting loud enough.

Finally, he came to stand by Liz as she did a series of punches. He held his hand out to test the strength of her punches.

"Not hard enough, drop," he said.

For a fraction of a second her eyes shifted to Ben. Michael circled around her as she completed the pushups. He watched Ben's face as he tested the strength of her punches again.

"Drop," he said. This time he was watching Ben. There was a slight hesitation before he changed the drill to kicks. When Liz stood up again, Michael was right in front of her, so their eyes met.

"Stop," he shouted. "Miss Collins. Where are you supposed to be looking?"

"Straight ahead sir," she said.

"Do you find that difficult to do?"

"No sir."

"No? Then why have your eyes strayed twice?"

She didn't answer, but tears welled up in her eyes.

"Who is in charge of this test? Am I or is Mr. Green?"

"You are sir."

"Fine. Drop and do 40 pushups. When you are finished, you will go stand against that wall, facing away from us in a horse stance and decide if you wish to continue the test. Do you understand me?"

"Yes sir," she choked out.

Michael was observing Ben as he said this, and noted the grimace. Liz completed the pushups then went to stand where Michael had indicated.

When Michael was satisfied that the drills were complete, he had the rest of the students join Liz at the wall. He motioned for Ben to join him on the other side of the room.

"What is she to you?" Michael asked.

"Who?"

"The girl, Collins."

"A recruit sir."

Michael studied Ben's face, then turned away.

"Have them continue with techniques."

"As I call your name, you will come forward and display the techniques I call out. If you do not know the technique, you will do one that you do know. If you do nothing, you will do pushups and return to the wall."

One by one he called them out, leaving Liz until the very end. She performed every technique flawlessly. Next, they performed Kata; once again Liz was flawless.

"Now we will spar, everyone pad up," Michael said when all the students had performed Kata. As the students turned to put on their sparring pads, Michael turned to Ben.

"You pad up too," he said.

Ben hesitated for a moment, then turned to put on his sparring pads.

Michael paired the students up. Each pair sparred three matches, tournament style. The last pair up was Ben and Liz.

They began tentatively at first, and then Ben came in with a jab that knocked Liz to the floor. He came forward to help her to her feet.

"You ok?" he said in a low voice as he helped her up.

"Yes sir," she said.

They began to spar in earnest, and she held her own. Finally, Ben kicked just as she was leaning forward so his foot caught her in the solar plexus, knocking her to the floor winded.

It was Michael who lifted her up and raised her arms over her head.

"Breathe," he said, holding her upright. His eyes met Ben's over Liz' head. Ben's eyes narrowed slightly.

When Liz was breathing normally again, he told the students to remove their pads, return to their original positions and kneel on the floor with their eyes closed.

He and Ben left the room.

"What was that all about?" Ben asked.

"There is more between you and the girl Collins than you are admitting."

"Why do you say that?"

"The first time I told her to do pushups she looked at you."

"That's normal. She rarely does pushups in my class."

"You are too easy on her."

"No," Ben said exasperation evident in his voice. "She's very good and usually doesn't need disciplining."

Michael turned and walked down the hall. When he turned back he stared at Ben through narrowed eyes.

"I'm going to pass them all but one."

"Which one?" Ben asked, standing stiffly in front of Michael, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

Michael delayed his answer, knowing it bothered Ben.

"Bennett," he said at last.

Ben relaxed and let his breath out slowly.

"Ok, I can agree with that. She needs more work."

They began to walk back down the hall toward the classroom.

"I want them all to stay with you another week. I will be ready for them next week."

"Ok, that will make the transition easier for Bennett," said Ben.

"It also means you'll have to wait another week to get Collins into your bed."

"What?" Ben said and stopped walking.

"I'm not blind," said Michael.

Ben shook his head, then laughed.

"No sir, I guess you aren't."

They sat together in Ben's darkened office after the test was over. Her fatigue was so great, she felt herself trembling. Ben put his arms around her, supporting her.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Sore," she said.

"I'm sorry I knocked the wind out of you," he said, lightly running his hand over her back.

"I'm not," she said.

"Why?"

"Because Michael was suspicious when he saw me look at you. I'm sure that's why he made me spar with you. He wanted to see if you'd be easy on me."

"You're very perceptive," he said with a laugh. "He said pretty much the same to me during the test."

They sat in silence then.

"Am I a high enough rank for a whirlpool now?" she said at last.

Ben chuckled, and tightened his arm around her.

"Yes, but you'll have to wait until you get down to Section."

In no time at all, six months had gone by. Much to Liz' dismay, she was assigned to Michael. She was his "material" as he coldly told her.

The first day they had been together had been sheer torture. He had quietly led her into a white room, and closed the door behind them. He seated her in the chair, and manacled her arms and legs. As she sat watching him, struggling to remain calm, he circled around her.

"Why are you here?" he asked, never pausing in his pacing.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Liz craned her neck to try to see him as he walked behind her.

"So you can train me?"

Michael stopped just behind her right shoulder, just out of her line of vision.

"Don't answer my question with a question." He spoke softly. "Why are you in Section?"

She sat still, willing herself to remain calm.

"Surely you know that already."

Michael began to pace again, not making eye contact with her as he walked in front of her.

"Elizabeth, you will not get anywhere by avoiding my questions."

"You can call me Liz," she said.

Michael stopped directly in front of her, placing his hands over the manacles that held her arms. His face was close to hers, mere inches away. He stared directly into her eyes for the first time since entering the room.

"You will treat me with the same respect you offered Mr. Green. If you do not, it's easy enough to have him put in abeyance." He paused, allowing the words to sink in. "You will tell me, now, why you are in Section." He never raised his voice, but the deadly quiet was more frightening to her.

"I killed someone," she said.

Michael straightened up then, and resumed pacing around her as she sat in the chair. Liz hung her head, and continued the story. She was sure he had read all this in her file, and felt humiliated that he was asking her to repeat it.

"I was high. My friends and I were working the streets."

"Doing what?" he said.

"Hustling," she said, color creeping across her cheeks.

"Continue," he said.

"We picked up a guy, and took him to a hotel room. I don't really know what happened next, but when the cops came, I was alone with him, covered in blood with a knife in my hand. They said I kept screaming 'Stop it, stop it.' I really don't remember what happened."

Michael stood against the wall now, watching her.

"What do you think happened Elizabeth?" he said.

"I think I must have stabbed him."

"Why?"

"Why what? Why did I stab him?" she said.

"No, why do you think you stabbed him?"

Liz let out her breath in exasperation. He wasn't making this easy on her. She closed her eyes, and hung her head forward, then said in an undertone,

"I was high."

"It's possible you didn't stab him," he said, starting to circle her again. "After your trial, your friend was arrested in an unrelated case. She testified that she had stabbed the man, and that you were yelling at her to stop it."

Liz' head came up at this, her mouth open in surprise.

"Why didn't someone tell me?" she said.

"You were already 'dead'."

She remembered now how sick she had felt when he told her this. He had loosened the manacles, and walked out of the room, leaving her to follow. In time, she learned that he had told her that to test her. It was true enough, but he wanted to see if she was truly Section material. The fact that she seemed to be unaffected by his revelations, after they had had time to sink in, showed that her preliminary training with Ben had hardened her to the fact that Section was her life now.

Now, as she sat in front of the computer, working on yet another of the endless programs Michael had given her, her mind drifted to Ben. In the whole time she'd been ensconced, imprisoned really, in Section, she had not been given the opportunity to see Ben. She wondered how he was, and more importantly, wondered if he thought about her too.

She was excelling in her Section training. She did well in all aspects, except Michael's high standards for studying these computer programs. He would set out scenarios, and she had to plot results. He always seemed to be having her redo the programs.

Michael approached her silently from behind as she sat daydreaming about Ben; her hands idle on the keyboard.

"Is there a problem?" His voice startled her, and she turned quickly toward him.

"You startled me," she said.

"You should always be aware, even while sitting here at a computer terminal."

"I'm tired, I haven't been sleeping well at night," she said.

"Why not?"

She turned to look at him.

"Michael, I want to see Ben."

"No," he said.

"What do you mean no?"

"You are to focus on Section now, forget about Ben. Your priority is to learn these codes, and I can see you're having a problem with them."

"I was under the impression I would be able to see Ben now that I'm not his student anymore."

Michael stepped closer to her, bending forward and correcting a mistake on her computer screen. He turned his head so he was looking her straight in the eye, and spoke in a low voice.

"If I find out that Ben has overstepped his boundaries in any way by making untoward promises to you, I will have him put in abeyance. You are to forget about him, and practice these codes until you can execute them flawlessly."

He stood up then, and backed away.

She turned back to the terminal, and began the program again. Michael stood watching her for a time, then silently walked away.

After a while, she shut down the terminal, then walked away down into one of the long halls that honeycombed through Section. When she was out of sight of the main area, she was grabbed from behind, a hand placed over her mouth. At first, she thought it was just Michael tormenting her again. Then she realized that it was a woman who held her.

At the doorway of a room, she was twisted around, and she found herself staring into Nikita's intense gaze.

"You better not scream," Nikita said.

Liz nodded her head, and Nikita took her hand away from her mouth, opened the door, and shoved Liz into the room. Liz stumbled, but managed to regain her balance. Nikita locked the door behind them, then stood leaning against the door, her eyes locked on Liz.

Liz had seen Nikita around Section before. She was somewhat of a hero to the new recruits; her rise to success was legend. Liz wondered what Nikita could possibly want with her that necessitated locking her in a room.

"You think you're special, don't you?" Nikita finally said.

"Me?" Liz said.

"Yeah, you."

"No. I don't know what you mean."

"You must think you're pretty special, working with Michael."

"Special, hardly. I think I'm in hell."

Nikita cocked her head to the side, a questioning look on her face.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't like Michael." As she said this, she remembered Ben's warning, never admit you don't like Michael. She stood nervously watching Nikita. Would she tell? Would her life become even more miserable than it was?

"You're lying," Nikita said, pushing away from the door and walking towards Liz.

"No, Nikita, I'm not," Liz said, backing away. "He's a miserable cold man, and I think he enjoys tormenting me. I look forward to the day I don't have to be tied to him anymore."

Nikita began to circle her; the same way Michael had done the first time he questioned her. Liz stood nervously, willing herself to remain still. Finally, Nikita stopped, took her by the arm and led her over to sit on some crates in the corner of the room.

"It looks to me like Michael is smitten with you. He treats you exactly the same way he treated me when I was first assigned to him. I don't know, I guess I thought you were encouraging him."

Liz turned her head, Nikita looked sad.

"Nikita," she said. "I shouldn't have told you that I don't like Michael. Please don't repeat that to anyone." She dropped her head down; staring at her hands folded in her lap.

"But, you don't like him."

"I know, but Ben said I should never admit that. He said if Michael knew he'd make my life even more difficult. I can't imagine things being more difficult than they already are."

Liz looked thoroughly miserable now; her shoulders slumped forward, her head hanging low. Nikita put her arm around Liz, and gave her a quick hug.

"I'm going to be honest with you, and we'll keep this conversation between us. I love Michael, I think I always have. I don't completely understand why he is the way he is, and he hurts me regularly, but I can't help loving him. When you came, I felt I was losing him. It took me a while to figure it out. He ignores me now, and focuses all his attention on you."

"You can have him. Maybe I should tell him I'm not interested in him that way."

"No," Nikita said, "Ben is right. If you tell him, it will only be worse."

"What should I do then?"

"Unfortunately, all you can do is grin and bear it. I'll try harder at distracting him away from you. Maybe I can get Ops to reassign you to me."

Liz still sat hunched forward, looking melancholy.

"What's wrong?" Nikita asked her, reaching out to push Liz' hair aside.

A tear rolled down Liz' face.

"I miss Ben," she said.

"Ben from upstairs? The Karate instructor?"

Liz reached a hand up, impatiently rubbing her face.

"Yeah."

"Why don't you go see him then?"

"Michael won't let me."

"He won't?"

"No, says I'm not focused enough on my computer programs. I guess he thinks Ben will distract me." She turned to look at Nikita. "He won't though. Nikita, you love Michael, well, I love Ben. I've wanted to be with him since he was my instructor, but he said it wasn't allowed. He said we could be together when I left his class."

Nikita sat in silence for a minute, then gave Liz another quick hug.

"I'll talk to Ops. I don't know why Michael won't let you see Ben. It's not against policy for recruits to visit their initial trainers. You might have questions for him, right?"

Liz smiled, hope shining through on her face.

"You'd do that for me?" she said.

"Yeah," Nikita said. "We're in this together. I can't promise anything, but I'll try."

"Thanks Nikita."

Another six months went by, and Liz didn't notice much of a change. Michael still tormented her, and she still wasn't allowed to see Ben. She didn't ask about it anymore, as it seemed to anger Michael every time she brought it up. Liz saw Nikita sometimes, and though Nikita would smile at her, they never had a chance to talk privately. Liz knew Nikita had tried, and been thwarted.

One afternoon, Liz sat huddled at the computer, a steaming mug of coffee in her hand. She hadn't been sleeping well again, and this particular day she felt sick. She just couldn't seem to make her eyes focus on the screen. Finally, she closed her eyes.

"We have a meeting with Operations," Michael said as he approached her from behind.

Liz jumped, and coffee spilled out of the top of the mug on to her hand.

"Shit," she said involuntarily, setting the mug down, and putting her sore hand into her mouth.

"What did I tell you about remaining alert?" Michael said, as he took her hand in his, examining it.

Her nerves were stretched to the maximum; she pulled her hand away from him.

"What the hell could possibly happen to me while sitting in this prison?" she said, putting her hand back into her mouth.

"Look at me," he said. "If you slack in here, you may slack out there."

She didn't respond.

"Are you feeling well?" he asked.

"No," she said.

"What is wrong?"

"You," she said.

He didn't say anything at first, but his head moved backwards a fraction of an inch, and his eyes widened slightly.

"We have a meeting with Operations. Go to your quarters and clean yourself up," he said.

"A meeting with Operations? When?"

"As soon as you're ready, but you better hurry."

Within fifteen minutes, she was back, and they walked together up to Operations' "perch". She was nervous, wringing her hands. Michael reached over and put his hand over hers as he reached up and keyed in the code to open the door.

Liz hadn't been to Operations' office before, and was unprepared for the welcome that awaited her. Operations was looking at some data on his computer screen, and did not look up at first. Liz and Michael entered the room, and stood side by side.

Finally, Operations looked up, a smile on his face.

"Elizabeth, it's good to meet you face to face. I've heard a lot about your progress from Michael. I've been pleased with his reports."

The relief flooded her like a bolt of adrenaline, and she swayed slightly. The color began to seep back into her cheeks, and she even smiled a little.

"Thank you, sir," she said.

"In fact, I haven't seen a candidate with such promise in a long time. Your ability to run the simulated computer programs is second to none."

Liz turned her head slightly, and studied Michael out of the corner of her eye. Had he been hard on her unnecessarily, or had his pressure on her caused her to perform so well?

"We're prepared to accelerate your training. Starting next week, you will be assigned to Michael's team, and complete any missions they are assigned. You will be on probationary status, but I expect you to become a full fledged Operative within a few months."

"That's amazing," was all she could manage.

"Why? You've been doing all the work. Surely Michael gave you some indication of how well you were doing?" Operations looked from Liz to Michael.

"No sir, he's pretty reserved," she said.

Operations smirked, but did not remark on that comment.

"I'm prepared to offer you a 'treat' in recognition of your performance. Is there anything you would care for?"

"Anything?" Liz said.

"Within reason, of course," Operations replied.

"I'd like to see Ben," she said.

"Ben?" Operations looked puzzled.

"My Karate instructor. From upstairs."

"That's not much of a treat. You've always had access to him, I was thinking more along the lines of a special dinner, new clothes, something like that."

"Excuse me?" she said, turning to look Operations straight in the eye. "I've always had access to Ben?"

"Well, yes of course. We allow recruits the opportunity to visit their initial trainers. You should have asked Michael, he could have arranged the visit for you."

Liz purposely kept her eyes averted from Michael.

"Michael told me I was not allowed to see Ben. He also told me he would have Ben canceled if I persisted in trying to see him," she said.

"Ben can't be canceled, he's not a Section Operative." Operations looked over to where Michael stood against the wall.

Liz turned then, and walked over to where Michael stood. She walked almost casually, not making eye contact with him. She stood to one side of him, pretending to look over his shoulder out the window that overlooked the main part of Section below.

Without warning, she spun around, catching his legs in a classic sweeping movement, dropping him to the floor. She fell on top of him, pinning his arms to the floor, her face inches away from his.

"You cold heartless bastard," she said, quietly enough for only him to hear. "You've been playing with me this whole time."

"It made you strong," he said, allowing her to keep him pinned to the floor.

"I hate you," she said.

Michael did not respond, but his eyes widened as he looked at her.

Operations came up to stand next to them, reaching his hand down to help Liz up. Behind her back, he seemed to take pleasure in seeing his top Operative laid out on the floor. He turned on his heel, leaving Michael to get up by himself.

"I'd like to spend the weekend with Ben, that's all I want," she said.

"Of course. I'll expect you back here Monday morning," he said.

Liz turned and walked out the door, never turning back. Operations and Michael moved to the observation window. She walked straight to the elevator that led upstairs, and didn't look back even as the doors closed.

Liz stood by the side of the classroom, behind Ben as he finished up his class. He hadn't seen her yet. It was good to see him again, to give life to her memories. He looked almost boyish, although she knew he was several years older than she was.

"Ok, everyone, good class. Get some rest tonight, tomorrow we'll be sparring," he said.

He turned toward her, his hair tousled on top as if he had been practicing techniques with his students. She remembered pulling his hair in that one technique they learned. It had become her favorite, simply because she liked touching his hair. They stood staring at one another as the students filed out of the classroom.

"Liz," he said. He didn't approach her, but stood almost rooted to the floor.

"Ben," she said. "I don't," she paused.

"Come to my office," he said. He walked out the door, and she followed him down the hall. She noticed that he still limped, and it seemed more pronounced now.

He opened the door, and allowed her to enter the room first. She stood uncertainly inside the room, watching him limp across to the desk. He turned on the light, then turned to stand by the window.

"Are you mad at me?" she said at last.

"Mad? No. Why haven't you come to visit before this?" He kept his back to her, his hand resting on the windowsill.

She walked to him, putting her arm around his waist. He turned to look at her and saw tears coursing silently down her cheek.

"What?" he said, concerned. "What's wrong?"

"He wouldn't let me come. Told me he'd cancel you if I asked again."

Ben turned and put his arms around her.

"He can't cancel me," he said, stroking her hair.

"I know that now. Oh Ben, I missed you so much. All I could do at night was think about you. I couldn't even sleep."

They stood, swaying together, both crying. Finally, she stood up straight.

"We should sit down, your knee must be bothering you."

"How long can you stay?" he asked.

"All weekend. Apparently I'm doing really well; Operations gave me the weekend off. Said I could have a 'treat'."

"Let's go to my quarters," he said.

In his room, they sat side by side on the bed; their heads bent close together, as if they thought someone was listening.

"Tell me everything," he said.

"I was assigned to Michael. The first thing he told me is that I may not have committed the murder I was accused of. That set the tone of our relationship. He was always tormenting me. I'm sure that's why he said he'd cancel you, he knew it would bother me. He was relentless."

"I know what he's like," Ben said, taking her hand.

"Because he was so relentless, I did really well, better than they expected me to. They're sending me out on missions now, starting next week," she squeezed his hand. "All I wanted was to come and see you. I asked him more than once, he always said no. I talked to Nikita once. She said it was allowed, and that she would try to help me."

"Nikita is not one of Operations' favorites," he said.

"Ben, I don't want to go back," she said. "I told Michael that I hate him."

"Why did you do that?"

"When Operations told me I'd always been able to see you, I saw red. I knocked Michael to the floor, right in front of Operations. I told Michael he was a cold, heartless bastard, and that I hated him.

"What did he do?"

"He said he had made me strong," she said.

"He's right," Ben said, smiling.

They sat in silence for a time.

"I'm going to take a shower. If you want something to drink look in the refrigerator." He stood up, untying his belt.

While Ben was in the shower, Liz poured wine for both of them. It was dark now, moonlight flooding in to the room, spilling over the bed. She hadn't seen moonlight or sunlight for over a year. She had an almost dreamy feeling as she removed her clothes, lay down on the bed, and wrapped herself in the sheet.

Ben came into the room, shutting off the bathroom light, plunging the bedroom into darkness, the only light being the moon. He was wrapped in a towel. He lay on the bed behind her, running his hand up and down her arm.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, whispering.

"I feel like I'm floating in a cloud," she said. She turned her head slightly, looking up at him. Several minutes went by, the two of them gazing into each other's eyes. Then, he leaned his head down and kissed her.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. She truly did feel like she was floating in a cloud. His hands were so gentle on her body, slowly sliding the sheet down. She reached a hand up, feeling the hard muscles of his upper arms, such a contrast to the whisper soft feel of his hands on her stomach.

His face seemed to float above her, buoyed up by the moonlight. He gently cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs on her cheeks. Slowly, he lowered his face to hers, touching her lips with his tongue, then claiming her mouth with his. She breathed a soft moan as his lower body pressed against hers. All the accumulated emotions of the past year came spilling out in a rush for both of them.

Afterwards, he held her against him, spoon fashion. The moon was higher up in the sky now, so the room was not so brightly lit. He ran his hand tenderly up and down her upper arm, his lips resting against the back of her neck.

"Will I be able to see you regularly now?" she said.

"Yes. Michael can't stop you now."

"I don't want to go back, I just want to live here with you."

"No, you don't. This must be purgatory. I'm not really part of Section, but not free either. I don't have the restraints of Section, but I also don't have the freedom." He rolled on his back, drawing her along with him. She lay with her head resting on his chest, tracing the tattoo on his chest with her fingertip.

"Michael will be extra hard on me when I go back," she said.

"No, I don't think he will. You met him head to head, if anything, he'll respect you more now."

"Ben," she said, raising up and peering at him through the dark. "I love you."

She could just make out the outlines of his smile.

"I love you too Liz. Now I can finally say it."

She put her head back down, and they fell asleep. Liz was confident that things would look up from then on, the test was over.

_Distribution: Here only._


	2. Another Test

Another Test 

**L**iz walked through the main area of Section One, late on a Sunday afternoon, a small smile playing around the corners of her mouth. Life was good, better than she could ever remember. Her status had been upgraded to level one Operative. She had more freedom, and she actually enjoyed what she did. She walked toward the briefing table puzzled that no one else was around.

"I see you got the dress," Michael said from behind her.

She turned around, the smile gone from her face. She thought she'd be free of Michael once her probation was over, but he was still considered her mentor and she still reported to him.

"Yes," she said. "Where is everyone?"

He walked around her looking at her from all angles. The dress was short, black, very low cut in the front. She was wearing sheer black nylons and black high-heeled sandals. Her reddish brown hair was still short, but now it curled softly around her face. She lowered the black sunglasses down on her nose and looked at him over the top.

"Are you going to answer me? You said there was a briefing, where is everyone?" she asked again.

"Come with me to Madeline's office. This mission is just you and me," he said walking off down the hall.

With a sigh of exasperation, she followed him down the hall. She noticed that he was dressed differently for him, which made her even more curious about the mission. He was wearing black as usual, but his pants were skin tight. He had on a pair of black boots, and his shirt looked almost silky. It was open at the neck several buttons. His hair, which was usually brushed back so severely at the temple, now curled softly across his forehead.

Liz followed Michael into Madeline's office. She was surprised to see only Madeline and Operations present. Madeline smiled at her as she sat next to Michael in front of the desk.

"This is a different kind of briefing," she said.

"It's a different kind of mission," Operations offered.

"Let's get started," said Michael.

Operations turned Madeline's computer terminal so all could see it, then punched a button on the keyboard, a man's face appeared on the screen.

"This is Arthur Lyle. He has ties to Red Cell, but he remains a free agent. He's privy to classified information, and is not above sharing it with those who can pay his price. Currently, he has intel about a Red Cell plot which would risk the lives of thousands of innocent people."

"How?" asked Michael.

"Red Cell is planning to test a biological agent somewhere in Europe. We need to find the location, and more importantly, we need to find out what the agent is, and how to counteract it," said Operations.

"What's his price?" Liz asked, studying Lyle's face on the screen.

Operations looked to Madeline.

"He likes to watch," she said.

"Watch what?" Liz asked.

There was a brief silence as Operations and Madeline exchanged looks.

"You and Michael will be posing as a married couple. You will go to Lyle's ranch on the outskirts of Auckland, New Zealand. Lyle's perversion is that he likes to watch his guests in bed together. Of course, his guests are usually unaware that he's watching." Madeline kept her gaze fixed on Liz as she said this.

Liz' mouth dropped open, she glanced at Michael, but he was sitting silently in his chair, staring at the screen.

"I'm sorry, why was I chosen for this mission?" Liz said at last.

"The choice has been made, it's not up to you to question it," said Operations, the familiar scowl returned to his face.

"Yes, but," Liz started, she stopped when Michael put his hand over hers where it rested on the arm of the chair.

"Elizabeth," said Madeline, "We know you are very," she paused, "Passionate. You are the right choice for this mission."

Liz opened her mouth to say more, but stopped as Michael squeezed her hand.

"How long before we leave?" Michael asked.

"You have an hour," said Operations.

"I'm packing bags for you both, we don't expect you to be there more than a few days," said Madeline.

"Fine," said Michael, standing up and pulling Liz up with him. He walked toward the door, Liz in tow behind him.

Outside the office, he waited for the door to close before he released her hand.

"We only have an hour, you better get ready," he said, avoiding eye contact with her.

"I'm going to see Ben," she said, walking off.

"Keep your cell phone on, I'll call you when it's time," he said.

She didn't respond, just walked to the elevator.

Whenever she could, she returned to see Ben. He had been her Karate instructor when she first came to Section, and she still maintained contact with him. She wished they could live together, but he wasn't free to leave Section, and she didn't want to live cooped up here if she didn't have to.

She found Ben in his quarters, reading a book. He was happy to see her, and admired her new dress.

"You look incredible in that dress," he said, following her to the couch. "Is there a special occasion?"

"I'm going on a mission tonight," she said.

"That's good," he said, sitting next to her and watching her. He knew her well enough by now to see that she was upset. He waited, knowing she would tell him what was wrong.

She sat staring at him, deciding how best to tell him. He looked good today. Sunday was his day off, so it was one of the rare occasions he wasn't wearing his Karate gi. He wore blue jeans and a tan colored thermal knit shirt that buttoned down the front. She wanted to reach over and unbutton the shirt, but she had to tell him about the mission first.

"I'm going to New Zealand," she said.

"That's nice," he said, waiting.

"Ben," she moved over next to him, then laid her head against his chest, caressing him through the shirt. He stroked her hair.

"I have to pose as Michael's wife. We're going to some ranch on the outskirts of Auckland to have some weirdo watch us in bed together."

His hand stilled briefly, but then he started stroking her hair again.

"You knew there'd be missions like that," he said.

"But not with Michael," she said. "I don't think I'm ready for that."

"Section isn't going to wait for you to be ready. This is your life now," he said. "Michael's no different from anyone else."

"Yes, but I hate him," she said.

"What did I tell you about that?"

"You said not to say that I hate him," she said, unbuttoning the shirt now, caressing the hard muscles of his abdomen.

"Liz, you know I'm not happy about the idea of you sleeping with him either, but you don't have a choice. It will all be over soon, then when you come back, we'll spend some time together."

"You're so good to me Ben," she said turning her head to kiss his chest.

He raised her up to him and kissed her. He whispered in her ear, she smiled. Just then, her cell phone rang.

"Damn," she said, sitting up, flipping the phone open.

"Lucienne," Michael's voice said.

"It hasn't been an hour yet," she said.

"We're ready now, come back," he said.

She flipped the phone closed, and turned back to look at Ben. He was still reclined on the couch the shirt open at the front, studying her through half closed eyes. She took a shaky breath.

"I have to go," she said.

"I know," he said, and sighed.

"I'll hold you to your promise when I get back," she said.

"I'll be waiting," he said.

Liz sat staring out the window of the plane. It was a long flight to New Zealand, and Madeline had suggested they try to get some sleep. Michael sat next to Liz, his head back, eyes closed. She knew he wasn't asleep.

"Michael," she said at last, turning toward him.

"Yes," he said, not opening his eyes.

"Why did they choose me for this mission?"

"Madeline told you," he said.

"But, what does she mean?"

"They know you used to be a prostitute."

"That was three years ago," she said. "What did she mean when she said they know I'm passionate?"

Michael rolled his head toward her and opened his eyes. He studied her face, then turned his head straight again.

"They know from Ben," he said.

"Ben? They talk to him about something like that?"

"No, they don't talk to him," he said.

"Then how do they know?"

"They watch him," he said, turning toward her again.

Bright red color washed over her cheeks, she turned away from him to look out the window of the plane again. Michael reached over and took her hand.

"Elizabeth," he said. "I only tell you this so you'll know the truth. That's how ruthless Section is." He held her hand in both of his.

"The intel we need from Lyle is crucial," he said, absently caressing her hand. She kept her head turned away from him.

"When we get to Lyle's ranch the surveillance will be constant. They will be watching us and listening to us all the time. We have to be convincing for him, or he will not supply us with the information we need."

"I don't know if I can do it Michael," she said.

"You have to. Operations made it very clear to me, if we don't complete this mission successfully, there will be consequences."

She turned now to look at him, all the pain from the previous three years clear on her face. Michael's head shifted back slightly and his eyes widened. She turned back toward the window.

"Elizabeth, we need to talk about this now, we may not have another opportunity," he said.

Slowly, she extricated her hand from his.

"Leave me alone," she said.

Michael watched her, his face softening a little. She had her back to him, and didn't see this. He opened his mouth to speak to her again, but she resolutely closed her eyes. He sighed, and turned away.

As soon as they arrived at the airport, Michael began his role as her devoted husband. Liz resisted him, but it was not obvious to Lyle's associates. They were driven to the ranch, and Lyle met them in the front hallway of his massive home.

"I'm sure you're tired from your trip," Lyle said. "But I'd like you to meet some of your counterparts, Michael."

"Of course," said Michael.

"Go up to your room, John will escort you back down to my office." Lyle reached out and touched Liz' cheek. "So lovely," he said then turned and walked away.

John led Michael and Liz up to their room. He set their bags on the bed, then waited in the hallway for Michael.

"Unpack the bags, I'll be back when I can," Michael said, standing close to Liz. He caressed her face, trying to get a response from her. She stood woodenly in his arms.

"_Cherie, rappelez-vous avant ce que je vous a dit, essayez s'il vous plaît,_" he said, kissing her cheek. He turned and walked out of the room.

"I told you I can't try," she said under her breath.

She opened the bag that Madeline had packed for her. There was another dress similar to the one she wore, only it was electric blue. All the clothing was tight fitting and low cut. In the bottom of the bag was a black silk nightgown. She held it up, and saw that the whole top was lace. Blushing, she hung it in the closet along with the matching robe.

Next, she tackled Michael's bag. There were more silky shirts like the one he was wearing. She held up a white one, wondering what he would look like wearing it. She grimaced at the black silk pajamas. In the bottom of the bag were some condoms. She sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at them. The enormity of what lay ahead of her hit her anew.

She didn't care that she was probably being watched at that very moment. She sat with the condoms in her hand, feeling sick. Finally, she opened the drawer on the night table, and put them in. She got up and walked to the balcony, opening the door and stepping out.

The view from the balcony was spectacular, green rolling hills as far as she could see. She hoped she had escaped from the surveillance. She thought about what Michael had told her, the importance of the mission. Thousands of innocent lives, Operations had said. We need to be convincing, Michael had said. You knew there would be missions like this, Ben had said.

She turned back, resting her back along the railing of the balcony. She thought the testing by Section was over, but apparently it wasn't. Sighing, she stood up and went back into the room. She still wasn't sure she had the strength.

Michael was late returning. She sat in a chair by the bed, wrapped tightly in her robe. Her nerves were stretched so thin, that she jumped when he opened the door.

He stood gazing at her, seeing how tense she looked.

"Did you eat?" Michael asked, walking to the closet and slipping off his shoes.

"They sent up a tray," she said.

Michael continued to remove his clothes, glancing back at her now and then. He put on the pajamas and came to stand next to her. He looked down at her, and could almost see her body vibrating with tension.

"Elizabeth," he said,

She looked up at him the fear in her eyes was only for him. He dropped down on his knees beside her, reaching out to caress her face.

"Elizabeth, please," he said in a whisper.

"I don't know if I can," she whispered back.

"Come to bed, Cherie," he said a little louder, raising his eyebrow and standing up.

She stood up then, and followed him to the bed. He turned back the covers on her side. She removed the robe, then lay in the bed. He went around to the other side of the bed, and lay close to her. He held her in his arms.

"I love you," he said, turning his face toward the ceiling, scanning the ceiling as if looking for the camera.

She shivered then, and didn't say anything.

He sighed and held her close as they fell asleep.

The next morning, they met Lyle at breakfast. He watched them from across the table.

"I trust that you slept well," Lyle said, buttering a slice of toast.

"Yes, of course," said Michael. He sat so he was turned in toward Liz slightly, his hand resting on her arm.

"Is anything wrong?" Lyle asked.

"Wrong?" Michael said, turning toward Lyle.

"Is the bed comfortable, anything lacking in the room?"

"The room is fine," said Michael, gently squeezing Liz' arm. When she looked up at him, he raised an eyebrow.

"You seem," Lyle paused, taking a bite of toast, "Tense."

Michael turned to look at him. There was a moment of silence, each man studying the other.

"My wife and I had a, how shall we say, a small disagreement while we were on our way here. You know how it is," he smiled. "It seems I never say the right thing."

Lyle smiled back.

"Why don't you take a walk around my grounds this morning," he said, signaling for more coffee to be poured. "Our meetings are not until the afternoon, maybe a walk in the gardens will do you both some good."

"That sounds lovely," said Liz. She forced herself to lean her head against Michael's upper arm.

Michael looked down at her, smiling.

"It's settled then," Lyle said. "Ask in the kitchen for a basket. I'm sure they'll pack you a lunch, you can meet us back here in the afternoon."

"Fine," said Michael.

Michael and Liz walked away from the house, up a slight rise. Michael swung the picnic basket from his hand, turning his head casually to see if they were followed. He seemed satisfied that they weren't.

They had both changed their clothes. Michael wore tight black jeans, and the white silky shirt, opened down the front. Liz wore leopard skin leggings and a tight white T-shirt. She slipped off the sandals she wore, and walked barefoot.

"Do you think they'll follow us?" Liz asked.

"No, he wants us to kiss and make up," Michael said.

She was silent. They walked further away from the house, coming upon a stream, and then a small fishpond.

Michael walked ahead of her, found some flat ground by the side of the pond, spread out a blanket and sat down. He reached up a hand toward her, and pulled her down next to him. He leaned against a tree, settling her so she sat against him.

"I thought they weren't following us," she said.

"They aren't, but I need you to be used to me," he said.

"I'm sorry, Michael," she said.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Everything," she said. "First of all, you telling me that they watch me and Ben. I can't get over that."

"They watch everyone," he said.

"Everyone?" she said.

He nodded.

"That's scary," she said. "Is it like the surveillance here?"

"No, just videos, like a security camera" he said. "But, that's not all that's bothering you."

She sighed, and settled back against him.

"I can't forget everything that happened between us when you were training me."

"What do you mean?"

"I already told you back then that I hated you," she said.

"You still hate me?" he said.

"I don't know. You were so hard on me and you didn't let me see Ben. You were critical of me and never praised me," she said.

"But all of that made you strong," he said.

"I can't forget it though," she said.

He was silent for a while. Absently, he stroked her arm.

"Elizabeth," he said at last, "I saw potential in you. I wasn't there to be your friend."

"I know, but I needed a friend," she said.

"There are very few friends in Section," he said.

"Ben is my friend," she said.

They sat in silence for a time, Michael idly caressing her arm. She felt some of the tension in her melting.

"Lyle may give us the intel we want tomorrow," he said at last. "It will depend on how things go tonight."

"You mean, if we have sex," she said.

"If we make love," he amended.

She turned to face him. The cold look was gone from his face and he almost looked sad. She had always been so busy hating him, that she had forgotten that he was a person too. As she looked at him now, she realized he was a very handsome man.

"Let's see what they packed for lunch," she said, turning away from him, feeling short of breath.

She opened the basket and pulled out a bottle of wine and two wineglasses. She poured wine for both of them.

"I'll try, Michael," she said.

He smiled, taking the wineglass from her, raising it in an impromptu toast.

Michael was in a meeting with Lyle that afternoon. Liz spent some time fixing up their room, in an effort to make it more home-like. She asked for fresh flowers and candles. Lyle's housekeeper was happy to help thinking Liz and Michael were actually a married couple recovering from some type of a row.

After the housekeeper left, Liz spent time trying on clothes and fixing her makeup. Thinking they would be on display to Lyle at the dinner table that night, she finally settled on the blue dress. Madeline had packed a bag of cosmetics. Liz tried on a pale foundation, and contrasted it with dark eyeliner; bright red lipstick finished the picture. She curled her hair, letting it fall around her face. The finishing touch was the bottle of exotic perfume. She touched the stopper of the bottle to her cleavage, and the back of her neck.

Michael returned just past 7pm.

"You look radiant," he said, drawing her into his arms. "Lyle is sending dinner up to the room."

"You mean I went to all this trouble for nothing?" she said, a pout on her face.

Michael laughed softly, beginning to dance with her.

"Not for nothing," he said.

They danced, although there wasn't any music.

"Let's put on our pajamas," he whispered in her ear, "We'll eat dinner in bed."

She suppressed a smile when she saw the dinner that was sent up. Everything on the tray was finger food. Raw oysters, cold boiled shrimp, spears of Belgian Endive filled with crabmeat, strawberries, whipped cream and a bowl of melted chocolate. A bottle of Champagne and two crystal flutes completed the tray.

They sat in the bed, feeding each other oysters, and drinking champagne. She took a strawberry and dipped it in whipped cream, holding it out to him. He took her hand, eating the strawberry, then licking the whipped cream from her fingers.

She got up, moved the tray from the bed and refilled his champagne glass. He sat leaning against the head of the bed watching her. She came and sat on the edge of the bed next to him.

"You look beautiful tonight," he said.

She smiled, leaning toward him. She kissed him, then trailed kisses down his face, to his neck and on to his chest. She swirled her tongue around his nipple, nipping it with her teeth. He sighed, caressing the back of her head. She trailed the kisses lower, untying the drawstring at his waistband. His eyes slipped closed.

"Elizabeth," he said, out of breath, pulling her face up level with his. He kissed her, turning her so she lay on her back. He leaned over her, a lock of his hair caressing her cheek. He kissed her ear, her shoulder, trailing across to her breast. She felt his tongue teasing her nipple through the lace. The silk of the nightgown slid up her legs, his head dipped lower. Her eyes flew open just as the tension was mounting in her body. Just then, she saw the camera. It was mounted above the bed, a tiny red light glowing next to the lens. She drew in her breath sharply, her body stiff with a different kind of tension. Bright color flooded across her cheeks.

Michael raised his head, knowing she had seen the camera by her reaction.

"Elizabeth," he said, more forcefully than he had intended, "Look at me."

She shifted her gaze to him, seeing the intensity in his emerald green eyes. He leaned forward, sliding the drawer open on the nightstand, never breaking his gaze with her. The intensity of feelings outweighed her embarrassment, and her eyes slipped close just as she heard the paper tearing next to her ear. Soon, all conscious thought left her as the pleasure exploded through her body, and she heard his ragged breathing in her ear.

They lay quietly then, holding tightly to each other. He draped his leg over her body, as if protecting her from the camera. He kissed her cheek.

"Merci, cherie," he said.

She smiled at him.

They fell asleep then.

Lyle sat smiling at them across the breakfast table the next morning. They held hands under the table, and Michael kissed her ear as she put a croissant on his plate.

"You slept well, I trust?" Lyle said.

"No," said Michael.

"No?" Lyle asked.

"Who could sleep with someone as beautiful as this in my bed," Michael said, still kissing Liz' ear.

"Stop it," said Liz, smiling.

Lyle laughed, completely pleased with himself.

"Michael," he said, spooning jam onto his croissant. "Please stop by my office before you leave. I have something that will interest you."

Michael turned from Liz then, and smiled at Lyle.

"Ok," he said. He took his croissant, eating it with relish.

Madeline was waiting for them when they returned.

"It was a success?" she said.

"Yes," said Michael, holding up the disc.

"Operations is waiting for you," she said.

Michael handed Madeline his bag, then walked away, without a backward glance. Liz stood watching him.

"Elizabeth," Madeline said. "Come with me, you need to debrief."

Liz followed Madeline, turning to watch Michael with Operations up in Operations' perch. Michael did not turn to look down at her. They walked into Madeline's office.

Madeline stood watching Liz as she sat across the desk from her.

"How did it go?" Madeline asked.

"Well, it was a success. Lyle gave Michael what you wanted."

"But that is not what I'm asking. How did you feel about it?"

Liz looked at Madeline, not sure how to answer.

"It was hard at first," she said at last.

"How so?"

"I don't really like Michael," Liz said at last.

"What does that have to do with this mission?" Madeline asked.

"It was hard for me to be receptive to him, no matter what you think you know about me." Liz said.

"What are you saying?" Madeline asked.

"Why did you say that I was chosen because I'm passionate? What do you mean by that?" Liz asked, looking up at Madeline.

"Elizabeth, it's not your place to question our decisions," Madeline said.

"Michael told me that you watch me with Ben."

A look of annoyance crossed Madeline's face.

"Michael shouldn't have told you that."

"At least he was honest enough with me to tell me," Liz said.

Madeline stood up, walked around her desk to the greenhouse where she kept her trees. She picked up the shears and trimmed a branch here and there. Finally, she turned back.

"Was there anything else?" she asked.

"I couldn't forget all the anger I felt toward Michael when he was my trainer." Liz said, twisting around in her seat to look at Madeline.

"Anger?"

"Michael was hard on me, and critical, and downright mean to me."

"Michael was your trainer, he was supposed to be hard on you," Madeline said.

"Michael and I have had a chance to discuss all this now, but it would have been better if we had had the opportunity before we went on the mission." Liz said. "I found it hard to fulfill my role. Fortunately, Lyle gave us the opportunity to talk."

"This mission was important to us," Madeline said. "If you did not perform, the mission would have failed. We can't afford failure."

Liz sat quietly, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger, watching Madeline.

"Can I go now?" she said at last.

Madeline held Liz' gaze a moment longer.

"Yes, of course," she said at last. "Where will you go?"

Liz stood up and walked toward the door.

"To see Ben," she said.

"Good," Madeline said a small smile on her lips, a smile that did not reach her eyes.

Liz walked out of Madeline's office and reached the main part of Section just as Michael was coming from Operations' perch. They met next to the briefing table.

"You should go home and get some sleep," Michael said, the cold exterior firmly in place again.

Liz studied his face, looking for some of the feelings she had seen there the night before.

"I'm going to see Ben," she said.

Michael's face seemed to tense slightly, and he drew in his breath, letting it out in a long sigh. He avoided making eye contact with her.

"Keep your cell phone on," he said at last. "I'll be in touch."

Liz smiled, then turned away. Things had changed between the two of them. On the surface it might not seem like it, but she knew things would be different now.

It was late. Almost no one was around as Liz made her way through Section. She waved to Birkoff as he sat by his computer terminal. He waved back, sheepishly setting down the Oreo he was about to eat. Liz smiled, and continued on to the elevator that led up and out of Section.

Liz found Ben in his quarters. He was dressed in a robe.

"I was just going to take a bath to soak my knee," he said as he let her in the room.

"Go ahead, I'll be in there in just a minute," she said.

"What are you up to?" he said, seeing the fire in her eyes.

"Just a little remodeling to your room," she said.

"What?"

She walked into his bedroom, looking up at the ceiling. Soon, she spotted the telltale sign of a camera mounted in the ceiling, behind the TV. Just the end of a fiber optic tube was visible; she pointed up to it. Ben watched in amazement as she dragged a chair over to the wall. She pulled a stapler and an index card out of the pocket of her coat. He watched as she stapled the card over the end of the tube.

"What the hell is that?" he said as she stepped off the chair.

"A camera," she said.

"A camera?"

"You didn't know it was there?" she said, putting the chair back at his desk.

"No. Why is it there?"

"Section has been watching us."

He looked from the card stapled on the wall back to the bed, flushing slightly.

"How did you know about it?" he asked.

"Michael told me," she replied.

He shook his head.

"Ben, go take your bath, I'll be in soon."

Ben lay back in the tub, breathing in the scent of the candles, feeling the warmth ease through his body. Liz came in and sat on the floor next to him, wearing another one of his robes.

"How was the mission?" he asked.

"Ok," she said.

He turned to look at her profile, illuminated by the candles. He reached up and touched her cheek.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he said.

"I think we worked out our differences. He's not so bad when you get to know him," she said, still avoiding his gaze.

"Liz," he said, turning her face towards his. "I don't want to lose you."

She looked at him for a moment, then smiled.

"You won't," she said, leaning forward to kiss him. The kisses deepened, and he put both his arms around her, lifting her up and into the tub with him. Water spilled on the floor, and some of the candles went out.

"I love you," Ben said, his voice raw with emotion.

"And I love you," Liz said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Above them, another fiber optic tube snaked away in the ceiling. Farther away, in another part of Section, Michael sat watching the feed from that camera, his jaw tensing.

_Distribution: Here only_


	3. The Final Test

The Final Test 

"**H**ey Walter," said Liz coming up to lean on the table at his workstation.

"Hello sweetness," he said, his face distorted behind the magnifying panel. He continued to work without looking up at her. "What's up?"

"Nothing," she said, idly pushing his tools around.

Walter looked at her over the top of his glasses. Her voice sounded unhappy. She looked very chic in a creme colored tailored suit with a cinnamon colored silk blouse. Her reddish brown curls were tamed into a soft chignon low on the nape of her neck. He watched her for a moment, then went back to work. She'd tell him what was on her mind when she was ready.

"What are you working on?" she asked.

"Oh, it's a com unit we took off that Freedom League operative last week." He looked at the tiny unit under the magnifying panel. "It's pretty advanced technology. They must have contracted outside for it."

She watched him carefully pick the unit apart. He was wearing a red bandana around his head, his gray locks loose from their usual ponytail. A soft black t-shirt and faded black jeans completed his attire. She picked up a multi-meter, touching the probe to her wrist.

"Hey," he said, taking it from her. "Don't mess with this stuff."

"Sorry," she said, pushing herself away from the table and pacing around the small area.

Walter watched her as he sat back down on his stool.

"Liz, honey, what's wrong? You're not yourself lately."

"Nothing. I said nothing's wrong." She came to stand behind him.

"Stop lying," he said, twisting around to look at her. "You're one of those oddballs who actually seem to like Section. Lately though, you've been moping around here with a long face."

She looked up at him, seeing compassion on his face.

"It's just," she started. "Does anyone ever get out of here?"

"Out?" Walter said. "What do you mean out?"

"You know, get away from Section, go back to a normal life."

He looked at her for a moment, and then he turned back to his work.

"Why are you asking?" he said at last.

"I don't know, I was just wondering," she said.

Walter did not have a chance to answer her question.

"Elizabeth?" said Operations. He had walked up silently behind them, startling them both. He was dressed casually, charcoal gray turtleneck, gray wool trousers.

Liz's face was still turned toward Walter. She grimaced, but carefully arranged her face into a neutral look as she turned toward him.

"Yes?" she said.

"Are you ready?"

"Of course," she said.

"Good," he held his hand out, indicating she should walk ahead of him out of the area. He gave Walter a smile that was more like a smirk as he followed her.

Walter sat staring after them as they walked toward an elevator next to the outer hallways. He had one last glimpse of Liz as the doors closed. She had the look of a prisoner going to execution.

Taking a deep breath, Walter turned back to his work. He slowly expelled the breath as he picked up the multi-meter. Soon, unable to concentrate, he put it down and just stared at the magnifying panel.

"Walter," said Michael, approaching silently.

Walter jumped. He turned toward Michael with a look of annoyance.

"What?" he snapped.

Michael stared at Walter, an eyebrow raised.

"Have you seen Elizabeth?"

Walter's eyes got big for a moment, and then he turned away, hunching his shoulders in as if protecting himself.

"Why?" he said.

"I needed to ask her interpretation of some data we retrieved in New Zealand," said Michael.

"She's in a meeting," said Walter, keeping his back toward Michael. "With Operations."

Michael didn't say anything at first, just stood behind Walter, watching him. Finally, Walter turned around.

"What?" he said.

Michael seemed about to say something, but then his expression closed down again, and he backed away, heading toward Operations' perch.

"Not there," Walter blurted out.

Michael stopped, pivoting around to fix his cold stare on Walter. He didn't say anything, just looked at Walter, one eyebrow raised in question. Walter hunched his shoulders forward again.

"He took her downstairs," he said.

Michael shifted his gaze up to Operations' perch again, as if verifying that it was empty then looked back at Walter. They stared at each other in silence, until it became clear that Walter was uncomfortable.

"That elevator," said Walter pointing.

Michael's expression changed momentarily, then switched back to its customary blank stare. He backed up, then walked quietly out of Walter's area, down the hall toward his own office.

Liz maintained a calm exterior as they stood side by side in the elevator. Inside, she was writhing, her emotions twisting together like snakes in a pit. Operations had approached her about this meeting the day before. There was something almost menacing in his tone as he told her to prepare for a meeting.

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened to reveal a level of Section that she was not familiar with. Instead of the cold, futuristic lines she had seen everywhere else, the hallway was dimly lit. Operations indicated she should precede him out of the elevator. She caught the faint scent of something in the air, the elusive smell of vanilla. Operations guided her to a room off the main hallway. The room was dark, lit only by candles. The furniture was low and comfortable.

Operations indicated she should sit down and he turned away toward a table along one wall. Liz heard the unmistakable sound of a cork being pulled from a wine bottle. Her jumbled emotions were even more confused by the sight of Operations walking toward her holding 2 glasses of wine, a small smile on his face. He sat next to her, close enough so that his leg touched hers.

"A toast," he said.

Liz cleared her throat, her hand shaking slightly as she accepted the glass from him. These were the only outward signs of her nervousness.

"A toast?" she repeated.

"Yes," he said, taking a sip of wine. He raised his arm up and rested it casually along the back of the couch behind her.

"I've been pleased with your work lately," he said turning his body toward her. "Very pleased."

"Thank you sir," she said, sitting next to him rigidly. Instinctively, all her muscles had tightened as soon as he had sat next to her. This was a side of Operations she was not familiar with, and her training had led her to be wary of this change in his personality.

"I was particularly pleased with your performance in New Zealand," he said, leaning forward to set his glass down. As he sat back, he picked up a remote control. He pointed it at the wall in front of them, and a screen lowered down from the ceiling. He pressed another button and the vivid picture of Liz and Michael in bed together leaped across the screen. Her brain froze for a moment; Operations seemed to sense this and gave her a moment before he spoke again.

"I'm upgrading your status, Elizabeth," he said.

Liz's eyes were glued to the screen, watching the whole scene between her and Michael play out. She watched the smooth lines of Michael's back, then started as she heard his voice commanding her to look at him. The mission in New Zealand had required Liz and Michael to pose as a married couple. They had been guests of Arthur Lyle at his ranch outside of Auckland. Lyle dispensed intel based on his guest's bedroom performances. She turned a stricken gaze at Operations.

"Where did you get this tape?" she asked in a choked voice, her gaze drawn back helplessly to the screen.

"That's not important," he replied.

She sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the tape play.

"I'm upgrading your status," Operations repeated, "And assigning you a new mentor. I understand from Madeline that you found it difficult working with Michael, although I don't see the evidence of that here."

Liz turned toward him, her face burning. She struggled for control before she spoke, feeling as if she'd break down in tears.

"This is not what I had chosen for my life," she said.

"You relinquished the right to make decisions about your own life when you were arrested for murder," he said, the tone of his voice changing.

"I didn't commit that crime," she protested.

"Whether you committed the murder or not is irrelevant," he said. "You gave up your right to make choices when you decided to become a drug addict and a hooker. Section makes the choices for you now."

"I want a second chance," she said, loosing the battle with her emotions, tears trickled down her face, her voice cracked with the strain.

"There are no second chances," he said coldly, standing up and walking to the doorway.

Liz sat hunched into a miserable ball, her eyes closed. She could effectively block out the sight of her and Michael on the screen, but she could not block the sounds. Operations returned to the room.

"This is Simon," he said.

Simon had followed Operations into the room from the hallway. He was about 5 foot 9 and slightly built. He had intense brown eyes with finely arched eyebrows. His shoulder length black hair was very full and wavy. He reached up and pushed the hair behind his left ear, and even in her misery, Liz noticed his well-shaped hands, long fingers and neatly tapered nails. He was dressed in an old pair of jeans with holes in the knees and an Irish fisherman's sweater.

"Simon is a Valentine Operative," said Operations. "He's the best we have, and he'll be training you for the next month or so. He will report directly to me on your progress, and I expect you to excel in your training."

Liz still sat hunched on the couch, studying Simon through half closed eyes. He stood in silence watching her, his expression neutral. Finally, he came and sat next to her.

"I'll leave you two alone to get acquainted," said Operations. "Elizabeth, you'll be on close quarter standby until your training is completed."

"I want to see Ben," she said.

"Not this time," said Operations, and he turned and walked out of the room. Liz buried her face in her hands. Simon reached out and put his hand on her back.

"It can't be as bad as all that," he said with his lilting British accent. Liz did not respond to him.

"Elizabeth?" he said, lightly caressing her back.

"Liz," came her muffled reply.

"What?" he asked, leaning closer to her.

She turned her face up toward him.

"Call me Liz," she said, studying his face at close range.

"Well, Liz," he said. "We'll be getting to know each other quite well over the next month." He turned to watch the screen. Apparently, the tape was on a loop, the same scenes playing over and over. "I'm looking forward to it." As he said this, a smile crept across his lips.

Liz was beyond caring. She sat back, leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

The next day at a briefing, Michael sat watching Operations. He only gave half his attention to the details of the upcoming mission. The other half of his brain was busy trying to figure out what game Operations was playing now.

The previous month Operations had reassigned Nikita to Section Four. At first, Michael hadn't minded because it had given him a chance to concentrate on breaking down Liz' defenses. Now Liz had been whisked away, and Michael was beginning to feel perturbed.

Operations concluded the briefing and turned to walk away.

"Just a minute," said Michael. Operations stopped and slowly turned back, an eyebrow raised in question.

"With Nikita, and now Elizabeth unavailable, we will need a female operative for this mission."

"I have assigned Perkins to your team," said Operations.

"She's not up to speed," was Michael's reply.

"Then use the time remaining before the mission loads to bring her up to speed," said Operations. "That will be all." He turned away and walked toward his office. Michael pushed his chair away from the table and silently fell into step behind Operations. Once inside Operations' perch, Michael wasted no time in coming to the point.

"Where have you taken Elizabeth?"

"Level fourteen," said Operations. The two men stood facing one another next to the windows that overlooked the main area of Section. When he heard Operations' response, Michael turned away, looking out the window. He scanned his memory, then turned back toward the other man.

Operations turned away and walked toward the computer terminal at the back wall of his office. He pressed a button, then turned back toward Michael a smirk on his face. Michael's eyes shifted toward the terminal.

There, in full color but mercifully minus the sound, was the video of Michael and Liz in bed at Lyle's ranch. To Michael's credit, his outward expression showed no sign of the turmoil brewing within. After a moment, he stepped forward and pushed a button on the keyboard, stopping the video.

"Lyle works for you," he said, raising his green eyes to meet the hard steel of Operations eyes.

"That's correct," said Operations. "It was a test for Elizabeth as much as it was for you. She has passed her test." He left the rest of the statement unsaid, but Michael knew that his test was still in front of him.

Michael turned and walked back to the windows. He stood with his back toward Operations. While he seemed to be surveying the activity in central communications, his mind was racing.

"Sir," came a voice across Operations' intercom. "Is Michael with you?"

Michael turned back, exchanging a long look with Operations.

"Yes," said Operations.

"Perkins is here," replied the voice.

"On my way," said Michael, walking out of the office without a backward glance.

Liz' training with Simon progressed slowly. It was partly because she was resisting being pushed around by Section, and partly because of the humiliation she felt. Regardless of what Operations had said, she did not feel she had brought this horror on herself. Nothing she had experienced in her life yet had prepared her for this.

Simon was like Michael in that he was very demanding. The standards he set seemed nearly impossible to attain. On the other hand, Simon was kinder to Liz than Michael had ever been. Somehow, that didn't make her feel any better.

They spent the first few days together just talking. Simon wanted to know everything about Liz' background. Because she was angry, she questioned him about his background too.

He was from England; a small town in Surrey called Horley. He'd lived there his whole life. He wouldn't tell her specifically how he'd come to Section. He said it was a case of being in the wrong place at the right time.

Liz never saw anyone else on Level Fourteen. They were quite alone. She soon began to suspect that something was being added to her food to make her feel the way she did. Even though she felt humiliated when the training escalated and Simon began taking liberties with her body, she found that she wanted him to.

The training moved from talking to the physical mechanics of using sex as a weapon. Simon demanded that she stop wearing clothes to the sessions. She thought she knew every trick, but soon found out he had a lot to teach her.

On this particular day, she sat in the center of a huge bed. Simon paced in front her, from one side of the bed to the other.

"What do you see?" he said softly, stopping behind her.

It was dark in the room, and getting late in the day as well. Liz was tired.

"What am I supposed to see?" she snapped irritably.

"Concentrate," he commanded.

She looked again, scanning the room until she saw a laptop on the floor in the corner, data scrolling by on the screen.

"I see it," she said.

"Good," he replied. Liz felt the bed sink as he climbed up behind her.

"What does it say?" he asked, placing his warm hands on her shoulders.

"I don't know," she said, a hint of frustration in her voice.

He didn't answer, but slid his hands down her arms, then up her torso to lightly cup her breasts.

Her face flaming, she squinted at the tiny screen again.

"It looks like coordinates," she whispered knowing her voice would crack if she spoke out loud.

"What kind of coordinates?" Simon said, his hair brushing her cheek as he leaned forward to nuzzle her ear lobe.

"I'm not sure," she whispered.

He pinched her nipples hard, and she cried out in pain, flinging herself away from him on the bed. She curled into a ball on her side, turned away from him.

He sighed, then stretched out behind her, pulling her into his arms. He let her cry for a moment, then began to lightly caress her arm.

"I'm sorry love," he whispered into her ear.

She rolled toward him, looking up at him.

"No you're not," she said.

He smiled bending forward to kiss her tear stained cheeks.

"Yes I am," he said.

"Then give me a break, let me rest," she stopped and gained control of her voice. "Let me see Ben."

"No, not that," he said, sitting up. He frowned at her briefly, then stood up and walked toward the doorway. He touched a button on the wall next to the light switch and she heard the electronic sound of the surveillance equipment shutting down.

"We only have a few minutes," he said, rejoining her on the bed.

"For what?" she said.

"Section is watching, they'll soon discover I de-activated their camera, and then there'll be hell to pay," he said, a lopsided grin on his face. He lay down next to her, positioning her against him spoon fashion.

"I can't let you see Ben," he said. "Operations doesn't want that. He wants you trained and ready to go by next month. Ben will be a distraction to you. The more you resist, the harder it is for me to train you."

"But, I don't want this assignment," she said.

"Well, you have it, so get used to it. Once Operations makes up his mind there's no changing it. Trust me, just play along, and you'll soon be out of here."

She sagged back against him in defeat, feeling miserable.

"Can I at least see Michael?" she asked.

"No," Simon said, a bit harshly. "You don't report to him anymore, you report to me. In a minute, Section will contact us. I'll have to reactivate the monitoring system. We'll pretend to give it another go, and you'll tell me that the coordinates are for air-tactical."

"Simon," said a voice over the intercom. "We've lost your connection. Can you check it on your end?"

"Straight away," he said, gazing at Liz for one last unguarded moment before getting up and returning to the doorway.

Liz lay on the bed, unmoving.

Michael sat in his office typing data into his computer from the previous day's mission. He appeared to be giving the task his full attention, but under that controlled exterior he was thinking about Liz.

A movement in the doorway caught his attention, and he looked up to see the imposing figure of Ben standing there. Their eyes locked for a moment, and then Michael raised a hand indicating that Ben should sit across from him. Michael pulled a small control pad out of the desk beside him, pushed a few buttons, and secured the room. He looked up at Ben.

Ben was dressed in a black gi, which made him an even more imposing figure. His slate gray eyes locked on Michael's for a minute more, then he spoke.

"Where is Liz?"

"Level fourteen," said Michael.

"Level fourteen?" repeated Ben.

"It's where they train the Valentine Operatives," said Michael, his hands resting on the desk in front of him.

"I'm aware of what Level Fourteen is," said Ben. "But what is Liz doing there?"

"Training," said Michael.

Ben sat in silence, the deep-seated resentment he felt toward Michael coming to the surface. There had been an incident between them years ago when they were both new in Section. Michael had inadvertently walked into a meeting in which Operations was telling Ben, in no uncertain terms that he was not cut out to be an operative. The only thing saving Ben from cancellation, Operations had said, was his considerable knowledge of Martial Arts. Then Operations seeing Michael, had held him up as a prime example of what an Operative should be. Nothing Michael said afterwards could ease the humiliation of that moment for Ben.

"Look, you son of a bitch," said Ben, "Cut the bullshit and tell me what's going on."

Michael closed his eyes for a minute, and when he opened them again the cold look had left his features.

"After our mission in New Zealand, Operations reassigned Elizabeth," he said.

"The mission where you," Ben started angrily, then stopped, slumping back in his chair.

"You always get the best of me Michael," he said. "You're always there to gloat over me."

Michael sat silently, regaining some of his coldness.

"You're always there when the thing I want most is ripped away from me," Ben said, his hands clenched in fists on the arms of the chair.

"This was not my choice," said Michael.

"I don't care," said Ben through clenched teeth.

Michael stood up then and walked over to the window. He stood looking out; his back turned toward Ben.

"What if we made a swap?" Michael said.

"What do you mean?" said Ben, still angry.

"Nikita is in Section Four," said Michael turning around. "If we sent you to Section Four, perhaps we could have Nikita returned here."

Ben stood up and crossed to the window, his hands still clenched into fists.

"How is that going to help me?" He stood almost nose to nose with Michael.

"Section Four needs Valentine Operatives," said Michael, not flinching or backing down.

At these words, Ben deflated a little. He turned and walked back to the chair and sat down.

"Will this plan of yours work?" he said at last.

Michael returned to the desk and sat down.

"Yes," was all he said. He turned then and reset the controls on the pad by the side of the desk, indicating that the interview was over.

A week later, Liz was still in training with Simon. She had not progressed any farther. Despite what he had said, she could not bring herself to respond to him.

She lay under the sheet in the huge bed waiting for him. Even though she knew he was annoyed with her, he never appeared angry. Patiently he ran through the training exercises with her.

Today, she felt restless. Whatever drugs they had been adding to her food had been increased. She felt hot and cold at the same time. She flipped herself over so she was facing the door. Michael stood just inside the doorway, watching her.

"Michael," she said, sitting up clutching the sheet to her chest.

"Hi," he replied.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

Michael pushed away from where he'd been leaning against the doorframe and walked toward her. He was dressed in his customary fashion, black t-shirt, black pants and black jacket.

"I came to see how you're doing," he said sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Does Simon know you're here?"

Michael looked at her, then reached out and pried the sheet from her fingers, letting it fall to her lap.

"I don't answer to Simon," he said, lowering his gaze.

Liz felt light headed, and almost like his eyes were fingers trailing across the sensitive skin of her breasts.

"Get me out of here," she said softly.

"Why?" he said, raising a hand to gently push her back on the bed.

She watched as he gradually pulled the sheet away from her body. When she didn't answer, he broke off his perusal of her and raised his eyes back to her face.

"I don't want this," she said.

"What don't you want?" he said, gently caressing the side of her face, brushing her eyebrow with his thumb.

"This assignment," she said, her body on fire from his light touch. "I want to come back with you."

Michael removed his hands long enough to shrug out of his jacket. He slipped his shoes off and reclined on the bed next to her.

"I thought you hated me?" he said placing a palm on her stomach using circular motions to lightly massage her.

Her eyes closed and for a moment she seemed to lose herself in the sensations he was creating in her body.

"I don't anymore," she whispered.

He moved his hand slowly up her body, just barely touching her. He dipped his head down toward her, whispering in her ear,

"What do you want?"

She made a sound of frustration, opening her eyes wide and meeting his unblinking stare.

"Please Michael," she said.

He stood up then and quickly removed the rest of his clothes before rejoining her on the bed. Carefully, he positioned himself over her, propping himself up so he could look into her eyes.

"You need to escalate your learning curve," he said moving his body slowly. "Start responding more to Simon."

Her eyes were huge watching him above her. The movement of his body was distracting, but she strained to hear what he said.

"If Simon sees you're responding, he'll tell Operations you're ready," Michael continued.

Liz' eyes slipped closed, she raised her arms up, tangling her hands in Michael's hair her breathing coming in short gasps.

"Elizabeth, look at me," Michael commanded, ceasing his movements until she forced her eyes open.

Michael began to move again, and along with the motion of his lower body his hands began a gentle caress over her upper body. It was more difficult to pay attention to what he was saying.

"When you come back upstairs, I can help you." As he said this, his own eyes closed and he increased the pace until his body stiffened and he drew in his breath, letting it out slowly in a ragged sigh. Liz wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him tightly to her.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Michael caressed her cheek one more time, then stood up and began to put on his clothes again.

"By the end of the week," he said, then turned and left the room. Liz wrapped the sheet around her and turned on to her side, a small smile on her lips. At the sound of someone clapping, she rolled back to see Simon, dressed in a robe, standing inside the room.

"Congratulations Liz," he said. He stopped clapping and stood with his hands folded in front of him. "You've just had a lesson from one of the best." With that he turned and walked out of the room.

Liz stared after him, shock and disbelief warring within her.

"That will be all," said Operations. He and Michael were wrapping up their weekly meeting.

"There's one other thing," said Michael. "Perkins is not a reliable replacement for either Nikita or Elizabeth, she lacks discipline."

"What's the alternative?" asked Operations, watching Michael's expression carefully.

"Section Four is beginning to escalate their field activities. Perhaps if we transferred Ben to them they could increase their effectiveness. They might then be persuaded to return Nikita to us."

Operations nodded.

"At some point in the future," Michael continued, "We could also transfer Elizabeth to them."

Operations removed his glasses, fixing Michael with an icy stare.

"I'm disappointed Michael," he said. "You know Section Four is strictly a tactical operation."

The brief flash of surprise on Michael's face was quickly covered.

"I'll consider contacting them about Nikita. We could use her back here with Elizabeth's change of status. They might be interested in acquiring someone of Ben's caliber to help with their training program."

Ops turned away, moving toward the window.

"I will not consider moving Elizabeth anywhere. Simon reports that she's progressing nicely. I'll have an assignment for her early next month."

Michael backed slowly away. Operations turned his head, watching Michael retreat down the stairway.

One week later Liz and Simon stood side by side in Operations' perch. In a speech reminiscent of the first time Liz had appeared before him with Michael, Operations told her he was pleased with her training performance.

"You're free to return to your own apartment," Operations said. "Simon will be in touch with you next week. A mission profile is being worked out now. Unlike the profiles with other missions, these generally take a little longer to formulate."

"I'll be with Ben," Liz said, turning toward Simon.

"Ben is being transferred to Section Four," Operations said.

"Excuse me?" Liz turned back to look at Operations.

"We needed to effect a trade with them since we lost you as a field operative."

"Ben is not an operative," she said. Her outward expression did not change, though inside she was reeling. Something was wrong.

"He's not an operative, but he has skills they need," said Simon, reaching out to take her hand.

"But," Liz started; she stopped when Simon squeezed her hand.

"No matter," said Operations. "You need some rest anyway."

Simon turned and led Liz out of the room. Once free of Operations, Liz pulled her hand away from Simon.

"You knew about this?" she demanded bitterly.

"No. Not until yesterday."

She turned away from him angrily and started to walk off.

"Liz, wait," Simon said, following her.

"No. It's all one big manipulation with you and Michael, isn't it?" she turned back toward him. "Leave me alone."

Simon stood watching her walk away toward the outer hallways.

"She's angry, but she'll cool down," said Michael as he walked up silently to stand next to Simon.

Simon turned and studied Michael through narrowed eyes.

"I hope so," he said, "I wouldn't want to be sullied with the same stench that she thinks clings to you." He turned and walked away.

Michael's eyes widened slightly. He shifted his gaze up to Operations' perch, meeting the older man's eyes briefly, and then he too turned and walked away.

Liz lay in bed in her own apartment staring at the ceiling. She was glad to be home again, but sleep wouldn't come. She turned her head to look at the clock. It was three AM.

The phone rang, startling her. She considered ignoring it, but reached over and picked it up.

"Lucienne," said Michael's soft voice.

"I don't answer to you anymore," she said coldly.

"Come in," he said, then disconnected, leaving her listening to the dial tone. Exasperated, she flung herself out of bed and got dressed.

When she arrived at Section some time later, it was dark. Only one person sat in communications, monitoring the screens. She walked down the hallway toward Michael's office. He stepped out of the doorway just as she arrived.

"What's this all about?" she demanded.

Michael stood silently, looking at her. She was wearing a long blue coat, pulled tightly around her. A black beret pulled low across her forehead covered her hair. He reached up and pulled the beret off, folded it and handed it to her.

"This way," he said, walking down the hallway.

"Where are we going?" she asked, falling into step behind him.

"To my quarters," he said.

She stopped walking and stared after his retreating back. Curiosity got the best of her and reluctantly she followed him.

He stood inside the doorway waiting for her. When she entered the room he pulled her into his arms, caressing the back of her head. They stood against the wall next to the door.

"You'll only have five minutes," he whispered into her ear.

"What?" she said.

He broke the embrace and backed away from her pointing to the device he had attached to the wall, then he walked out of the room.

"Liz?"

She whirled around and saw a figure standing silhouetted in the doorway of the bathroom.

"Ben?" she said, walking rapidly toward him.

He pulled her into his arms, kissing her hungrily. His hands searched up and down her back as if memorizing the feel of her body in his arms.

"They're sending you away," she said, burying her face into the soft fabric of his sweater. A lump had formed in her throat making it difficult to speak.

"It's ok, we'll be together soon," he said slipping his hands under her coat.

"How?" she said.

"Shh," he replied claiming her lips again. "Don't talk now."

They stood in each other's arms, kissing, touching, and communicating without words. He reached up a hand and wiped her tears away with his thumb.

Soon the door opened, and Michael came back into the room.

"It's time," he said.

Ben wrapped his arms around Liz one last time, whispering into her ear,

"I love you."

She was too overcome to respond. Unwillingly, he let go and walked over to the doorway. His eyes met Michael's briefly, and then he walked out of the room.

"Elizabeth, come here." said Michael.

Liz turned, and slowly walked toward him. He looked at her a moment, then drew her into his arms. He reached down and deactivated the blocking device.

"He'll be transferred tomorrow," he said softly, holding her against him.

She was too drained to respond, so she stood silently in his arms.

"I will try," he whispered, putting a hand under her chin and raising her face up toward him. "To get you transferred too."

Her expression changed, the sadness retreating to be replaced by hope.

"You will?"

He nodded. She raised her arms and put them around his neck.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Above her head, Michael stared blankly at the opposite wall.

"Congratulations on a successful mission," said Operations. "Lazlo never knew what hit him."

Liz and Simon stood together in Operations' office.

"You won't have much down time I'm afraid," he continued. "The situation in Madrid had reached the critical stage. We'll need you in place by week's end."

"Madrid?" said Liz.

"Simon will fill you in on the details," said Operations. He turned away signaling the end of the interview.

"Just a minute," Liz said as Simon took her arm. Operations turned back. "What about Section Four."

"Section Four?" he said, and eyebrow raised in question.

"I thought," she began uncertainly. "Michael said." She stopped and walked over to the window. She looked down across the main area of Section.

"He said there was a possibility of me transferring to Section Four," Liz said.

"Let me make this clear for you Elizabeth," Operations said. Liz turned from the window.

"You don't work for Michael, you work for me. In the first place, Section Four doesn't use Valentine Operatives." He walked toward her menacingly. "In the second place, you are too valuable to me. I'm not in the habit of expending time and money to train operatives just to hand them over to other Sections." He stood staring down at her. "That will be all."

Liz turned and fled from the room. At the foot of the stairs that led to Operations' office, she stopped. Michael stood next to the briefing table. Simon walked down the stairway and stopped, putting his arm around Liz.

Nikita walked across toward Michael from Walter's station. Liz watched as they talked then Michael reached up and smoothed Nikita's hair back from her face. Nikita turned and walked away, a smile on her face. Simon squeezed Liz' arm, and when she looked up at him he wore a rueful expression.

"Come on," he said. "Let's review Madrid."

Liz nodded and followed him out of the room. Everything was crystal clear to her now.

Distribution: Here only 


End file.
